


Sing to Me

by EnInkahootz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Afterlife, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Sam Winchester, Brother/Brother Incest, Brothers, Caught, Fic is an AU where Radio Company is Dean's band, First Time, Getting Together, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Heaven, In Public, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Outdoor Sex, Pining, Porn, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Post-Finale, Radio Company, Radio Company is Jensen's band in real life, Rock Star Dean Winchester, Romance, Sibling Incest, Singing, Singing Kink, Smut, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2021, Top Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester, Tree Sex, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 00:39:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30030354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnInkahootz/pseuds/EnInkahootz
Summary: In Heaven post-series, Dean is the singer of a band calledRadio Companyand also writes their song lyrics.  Sam is secretly aroused by his brother's singing voice and finds hope for their romance in Dean's lyrics.  Sam routinely jerks off afterRadio Companyconcerts and one night Dean catches him.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 118
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2021





	Sing to Me

**Author's Note:**

> In real life the band _Radio Company_ is the band of Jensen Ackles (the actor who plays Dean) and Steve Carlson. This fic takes place in an Alternate Universe where _Radio Company_ is Dean's band and Dean is the singer and writer of all the song lyrics. (In real life some songs are sung by Jensen and some by Steve and they wrote them together, sorry Steve). This fic uses lyrics from the _Radio Company_ songs _Drowning_ , _Sounds of Someday_ and _All Our Own_ from the album _Vol. 1_. Links to the songs are below. All three of these are sung by Jensen and are soooooo good.  
> [Drowning](https://youtu.be/WYUtfF0luKk)  
> [Sounds of Someday](https://youtu.be/sbfgtJ3Mzqc)  
> [All Our Own](https://youtu.be/9ej11jKHK8g)
> 
> Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2021 square: Voice Kink

Sam was glad for Dean that he had found such happiness in music now that they were in Heaven and free to do as they pleased, but the formation and success of Dean’s band had given Sam an awkward problem; he had become wildly aroused by Dean’s singing voice. Night after night, Sam would listen to _Vol. 1_ , the debut album of his brother’s band, _Radio Company_ , on loop with his eyes closed. He would let the album play twice, and then Sam would open his fly and take his cock into his hand, just as the first track, _Cannonball_ , began for the third time. Sam’s cock would already be hard by then, probably leaking; it only took a few words of Dean’s singing voice to make Sam erect and desperate.

At _Radio Company_ concerts Sam was always sure to wear a long shirt or jacket he could hide his erection behind. After the last song Sam would find the nearest hiding spot and jerk off with vast need, unwilling to wait until he got home and aroused by his nearness to the stage, to the spot where Dean had so recently stood and sang. When he did arrive at home Sam would masturbate over again, again and again, reclining on his bed with his headphones on, listening to the album on loop and pretending that Dean was singing only to him. He liked to imagine that Dean had written many of the songs about him, that Dean secretly felt something for him, something more than a brother’s love. Sam had always felt something more, had always felt far more than a familial love for his big brother; Dean had lived in Sam’s heart for as long as Sam could remember.

After one especially spectacular outdoor concert, Sam ducked behind the nighttime shadow of a tree. When he peered out from behind the tree’s trunk, he could see that the crowd was still dispersing, but he was fairly confident that he was concealed. Sam hurriedly pulled his earbuds and phone from his pocket, shoved the buds into his ears and fumbled to play track six, _Drowning_ , which Dean had sung perfectly at tonight’s concert. Sam set the song one minute and eighteen seconds in, skipping past the instrumental opening; it was beautiful, but Sam was desperate for Dean’s voice. Sam unzipped his fly and took his hard cock into his hand.

_Drowning_ was one of the songs Sam imagined Dean had written about him, about their relationship, about their lives and about their afterlives. They had lived life on the verge of drowning in feelings for each other, nearly dying at every moment from their unfulfilled need for one another. They had greatly desired to let the water take them, to unite their hearts and drown happily in their true feelings, yet they had fought the pull of their love because they believed they had to. They spent a lifetime straining to catch their breath, holding their heads just above the water that was their ever flowing love, nearly unable to resist coming together and yet always just barely managing it. They struggled, worked with all their might, as the song said over and again, _“to keep from drowning, to keep from drowning…”_ Their longing for one another, their love that society deemed the wrong kind, their profound feelings kept secret from each other, hung heavy in their held breath, unspoken, for if they opened their mouths the water would rush in and there would be no way to resist their yearning; their love would swallow them as one whole being. This, they both believed in life, would have been wrong. Brothers should not love that way.

But Sam was ready to give in now, ready to drown in their love and to do it with ecstasy. In life he had thought it was wrong to love his brother as he did, even if Dean loved him back, but since arriving in Heaven things had seemed simple and clear: their love was strong and beautiful and they should be together. Still, Sam was scared to initiate anything between them. He had long sensed that their feelings were mutual, but he had to admit to himself that he had no hard proof. What if his love was unrequited? Or what if Dean did love him back, but still felt incest was wrong? Sam wondered if he would ever get up the courage to make a move on Dean; their love was worth risking the pain of rejection, but Sam was frozen by his fear. He hoped Dean would make a move first. He hoped one day soon it would work out for them, now that they were in Heaven; perhaps here, in this place made for joy, they could finally have everything they longed for. There was hope to be found in the lyrics of more than one of Dean’s songs, including _Drowning_.

_“Hold the day, make it through and fall into the light,”_ Dean’s voice began to sing through Sam’s earbuds, _“all the way, a carnival of causes and delight.”_ This first verse, as well as the final verse of the song, Sam interpreted as being about them finally making it to a blissful Heaven. They had held the day, held on through the long and complicated day that was their lives. They had made it through it all and fallen, at last, into the light. The light was Jack’s version of Heaven, a Heaven that was a carnival of delight, and the causes of their arrival were the good actions they had taken in life.

But these two verses were also, Sam hoped, about Sam and Dean one day coming together, becoming a couple in this special place, this place of reward. In this sense the word “causes” referred to the causes of their romantic bond; every aspect of themselves and every moment of their existence had woven them intricately together. The word “light” did not refer only to Heaven, but to the glowing love they would soon share, to their romantic union yet to come. Like Heaven, their love would be a carnival of delight. As Sam stroked himself to the dreamy sound of Dean’s voice he was filled with hope; Dean’s lyrics made Sam believe that their light would soon come.

The middle portion of the song was, according to Sam’s interpretation, about their resistance to their union in life. It was a time when they spent all their energy stubbornly fighting to keep from drowning in their desire. _“Because we can’t become victim of a sum,”_ Dean’s voice sang, explaining why they could not be together, that it was wrong for their morals to fall victim to the facts of their lives and selves, to the way their paths and hearts had nearly merged, almost making a sum of one plus one into one. They could not fall victim to their need to be closer, always closer, could not allow themselves to be destroyed by their yearning to become a single unit. They could not; it was wrong, or so they felt in life.

Sam jerked himself a little faster, imagining it was Dean’s hand wrapped around his cock and wanting to come already but aiming to last till the song’s final word. _“Cradle our desire,”_ Dean’s recorded voice sang into Sam’s ears, and Sam thought with fondness on the fact that, throughout their lifetime of resistance, they had each secretly held onto their love, had cradled it like a small, precious thing. They had held it deep inside themselves. They had kept it safe. They had saved it for later, part of them knowing even amidst their shame that their love was something priceless and important. _“To keep from drowning,”_ Dean’s voice added with passion that Sam felt in his core.

_“For all we know and all we’ve shown,”_ Dean went on, _“crazy our survival,”_ , and Sam knew it was crazy that they had survived a lifetime without each other’s romantic love, that they had kept from drowning, had made it through. It was crazy that they had achieved it. They had fought their yearning so stubbornly and won the needless battle. It was just as crazy that they had chosen to fight the battle at all after all they knew: that there was a profound and exquisite love between them. _“To keep from drowning,”_ Dean sang over and again, and Sam listened as closely as he could, straining to cherish every instant of Dean’s vocals.

Sam felt thrill after thrill run throughout his body as he imagined that Dean was singing only to him, only for him. He pictured Dean on stage with an audience of only his beloved brother. He pictured Dean making eye contact with him for every moment of every song. He focused on Dean’s words, on his voice, on the sound of each syllable as it came through his earbuds and he pumped his cock faster and faster. He bit back his moans, shoving them into heavy breaths instead because he heard a few people lingering not too far away.

During the instrumental part of the song Sam’s lust lessened slightly and he imagined all the sweetly affectionate things he and Dean would do when they became a couple. He imagined small touches and cheek kisses. He imagined cuddling when they watched TV. He imagined calling each other pet names; Dean would assign Sam some lovingly mocking one and Sam would glare but be wildly charmed.

_“Because we can't become victim of a sum,”_ Dean sang again, and Sam gasped as he almost came without warning, catching himself just in time and repressing his release because the song wasn’t over yet. _“Cradle our desire, to keep from drowning,”_ Dean’s voice expressed, emotion dripping from every note. Sam breathed raggedly as he pumped his cock. He yearned to set free his still nagging orgasm, but there was more to the song. _“For all we know and all we've shown,”_ Dean went on as Sam strained not to climax, shoving down his peak again and again. _“Crazy our survival,”_ Dean’s voice declared lyrically, and then Dean proceeded to sing over and over, his rich voice seeming to roll through Sam’s body in a series of smooth waves: _“to keep from drowning, to keep from drowning, to keep from drowning…”_

_“Hold the day,”_ Dean finally sang at the start of the last verse, a verse which was about their ultimate arrival in Heaven as well as their future union. Sam’s restrained orgasm struggled to break free. He jerked his cock furiously but continued to hold back his release. He kept himself strictly on the edge, waiting with blissful desperation for Dean’s final glorious word. _“Oh, we pray,”_ Dean’s voice went on, and Sam had prayed, did pray, prayed with all his might that they would soon come together in love. After a lifetime of cradling their desire and fighting every moment to keep from drowning in their lust and love for one another, Sam prayed that their need to unite would soon be fulfilled. _“To make it through the night,”_ Dean finished, and they had, had made it through everything, and now they were in Heaven; this was the place for their love, their time was near, Sam could feel it, and on Dean’s final word, “night,” he spilled fervently over his hand, his seed dripping onto the soil and his body giving a violent shudder as he uttered a low groan that he stifled as best he could.

After he had come, Sam leaned back against the tree, his softening cock hanging from his open fly. He worked to catch his breath as he skipped back to track four, _Sounds of Someday_ , to listen to until he was ready to jerk off again. He would come one more time at the site of the concert before going home and spending the rest of the night pleasuring himself over and over to the sound of Dean’s voice, the sound that made Sam feel more than he had ever felt.

_Sounds of Someday_ was another song Sam imagined was about their relationship. He thought that perhaps Dean had written it during their lives; for a time Dean was watching YouTube singing lesson videos and writing songs in secret, and Sam imagined he had written _Sounds of Someday_ during that time period. The song expressed Dean’s deep sadness that they were apart, but also his hope that someday they would be together. Sam closed his eyes to listen, to focus on Dean’s voice, on the rich sounds of his notes and on the intimate implications of his lyrics.

_“All gone is here today, finding room to breathe,”_ Dean’s mournful voice sang into Sam’s ears, expressing the pain of being apart. Sam had often felt that same pain, that feeling that only their union mattered, and that without it all was gone and he had to struggle just to breathe. Like Dean he had been trapped by his resistance to their togetherness, a resistance he thought was necessary, and there was very nearly not enough air within his self-imposed confines.

In the chorus, though, were Dean’s repeated words of hope: _“though the sounds of someday may be home.”_ According to Sam’s view, Dean’s lyrics showed that a part of him had dreamed about their someday, despite the shame, despite everything. Something in Dean had heard the distant sounds of their union throughout their lives. Sam believed that union was finally nearing; someday would soon be arriving. Soon the brothers would come together and acknowledge that they had always, always been each other’s home.

_“Even the fires on the road,”_ Dean’s voice sang, and Sam pictured the two of them on the road, in the Impala together, driving on and on as they burned secretly for one another. _“Trying to get away,”_ Dean continued, for they were always trying to get away from their need for each other, but they were in the same car, even when they weren’t, and no matter how long Dean drove for they could never pull apart. Even during the times in their lives when they were separated, they still lived within one another, still rode together from afar. Sam knew now that the reason they could never get away from their yearning was because their togetherness was profoundly right. They needed to come home to each other at last.

_“And all the stars seem on a roll,”_ Dean sang through Sam’s earbuds, and Sam pictured them driving night after night, together beneath the endless sky with sparkling stars rolled out over the vast space. He thought too of the metaphorical night that was their romantic apartness; it had rolled out over the paths of their lives, the stars of their desire spread as thin as they could be spread, but still everywhere, hanging always above them as they tried to make it through the night.

“Sam?” Sam heard Dean’s voice ask - not his voice on the recording, but his voice live and near. Sam’s eyes popped open. He watched Dean’s gaze fall with an unreadable expression to his cock, which Sam had never tucked away. Sam hurriedly pulled out his earbuds and shoved his soft cock behind his fly, feeling his face flush and wondering if Dean could detect it in the dim light.

“Dean, uh…” Sam said, trying to think what to say. Should he make an excuse? Or should he finally confess his feelings? Was someday here at last? Was this how it happened? How they came home?

“Enjoy the concert, huh?” Dean asked, his voice as unreadable as his face.

Sam laughed awkwardly and nodded, unsure what to say because he couldn’t tell what Dean was thinking. He wanted to believe that Dean was aroused by what he had caught Sam in the wake of doing, that it was just the push Dean needed to finally cross the line, to finally unite them. Just as Sam hoped for the best, though, he also feared for the worst; perhaps Dean was disgusted by what he saw, horrified, and he would never want to see Sam again. There was a middle road, Sam considered, and that was Dean thinking it was funny. He would tease Sam about it for a while and then act like it was forgotten. As the silent moments ticked by, Sam began to think that was the most likely option, that he had been wrong all these years about their feelings being mutual.

“Sammy,” Dean spoke then, his face suddenly softening. He stepped closer and looked down again at Sam’s crotch and Sam realized that he had tucked his cock away but had never closed his fly. He moved to zip up but then he felt Dean’s hand reach inside and take gentle hold of his soft cock. Sam made a strangled noise of relief and need and love. “Sammy,” Dean said again, “did you just jerk off while you were listening to me sing?”

“Yes, Dean,” Sam whispered.

“Because the concert turned you on?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Made you hard?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Because of me? My voice?”

“Yes, yes Dean,” Sam spoke, then wrapped his arms around Dean’s body and united their lips at long last. Everything felt still and hot and right. Existence was dreamy and vivid at once. Dean’s body was warm and solid against Sam’s and Dean’s tongue slipped at once between Sam’s parted lips. Sam glided his own tongue into Dean’s mouth and held him fast. Dean released Sam’s cock and removed his hand from Sam’s pants; Sam felt a loss and his hips gave a small involuntary thrust. With a need that seemed to match Sam’s own, Dean reached up and gripped Sam’s face and held it in his hands as he kissed him. The brothers worshipped each other’s mouths with their lips and tongues for long moments that were both tender and wild.

At last Dean pulled away.

“Sammy,” he spoke in a low tone, “do you want to fuck while I sing to you?”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Sam said at once, the words spilling from his lips with urgency.

“Do you like to top or bottom?” Dean asked as he began to rub Sam’s cock through the fabric of his pants, soon bringing him back to full erection.

“Anything you want, Dean,” Sam moaned quietly.

Dean made a soft, lyrical sound and turned Sam around. Sam leaned his palms against the tree trunk and breathed heavily with keen anticipation as Dean reached around Sam’s waist, undid Sam’s belt and shoved his pants and boxers down to his ankles. Then Sam heard the sound of Dean’s zipper.

“Yes, fuck me,” Sam begged and demanded at once. He arched his back as he bent his knees a little, sticking out his ass and arranging his body so that his pelvis was level with Dean’s. An instant later he felt Dean’s hands part his ass cheeks and then he felt Dean’s fingers rub circles against the outside of his hole. In Heaven there was always lube when you needed it, and so Sam felt his hole slick as Dean pushed two fingers inside.

“Oh, Dean, Dean,” Sam cried too loudly, then bit his lip in an attempt to muffle further involuntary sound.

Dean used his fingers to prepare Sam’s hole well, readying it gradually for his cock, but though he was thorough he did not linger; Sam could feel Dean’s eagerness for their bodies to be united, for his cock to bury itself deep within Sam’s ass. Sam was eager too, painfully eager. They had waited so long.

“Fuck me, Dean,” Sam whispered harshly. Dean grunted and a moment later Sam felt Dean’s hard cock begin to glide smoothly into him. They both made drawn out sounds of lust as Dean pushed himself slowly inside. When he was fully within Sam’s channel, they both cried out at a volume that was far too high considering Sam wasn’t sure everyone had left the concert space yet. Sam’s lip-biting solution had not helped at all. Sam wondered if anyone had heard their shared cries of desire. Part of him hoped someone had, was thrilled by the possibility.

Suddenly, Dean gripped Sam’s hair and yanked his head backward, pulling Sam’s head onto his big brother’s shoulder and causing Sam’s back to arch further. Dean’s lips were now close to Sam’s ear and Sam panted in nearly frantic anticipation, eager to hear which song Dean would choose to sing to him and knowing he would love whichever one it was.

_“Listen to yesterday, long before the way it has become, and it all came down to you,”_ Dean sang softly into Sam’s ear, holding still inside him as he began another song Sam imagined was about them entitled _All Our Own_. Yesterday, Dean’s past, it all came down to Sam, Dean told him in the song. Sam felt the same way about his own past: it all came down to Dean. Above all else, there was Dean. Dean had shaped who Sam was; they had shaped each other.

Dean reached an arm around Sam’s hip. He curled his fingers around Sam’s shaft and began to jerk him just as he began to fuck him. He drew himself slowly out of Sam’s hole, then pushed himself in again. He repeated these motions over and over as he serenaded Sam, fucking him with dreamy but impassioned penetrations and withdrawals.

_“I don’t really know the way,”_ Dean sang, for they couldn’t, in life, find their way to each other. _“Played out stranger than it seemed,”_ Dean sang of their strange lives as he stroked Sam’s cock and plunged deeply into Sam’s hole over and again. _“But what went down came true, like an all day dream,”_ Dean continued, and Sam believed this was about the dream of their coming together. It was a dream that would be endless once it came true, a dream that would last for the entire infinite day that was their afterlife. Sam thought the lyrics showed that Dean had believed when he wrote the song that the dream would soon come true, and now it had.

_“I don't want to be the one to say it's wrong,”_ Dean sang, each syllable sending a fresh wave of lust through Sam’s body. The combination of the sound of Dean’s singing voice and the beauty of his lyrics pleasured Sam just as much as Dean’s cock fucking his ass or Dean’s hand pumping his cock. Sam pondered the line Dean had sang, which he felt was about whether or not them being together was wrong because they were brothers. He thought the lyrics reflected Dean’s conflicted emotions in life: part of him had felt it was wrong, but he didn’t want to say it because another part of him, a secret part that he repressed then, knew that their love was right.

_“When the heavens open and a new day comes along,”_ Dean sang, filling Sam’s heart with a tender joy - this line was about now, this was Heaven, this was a new day, this was their time. Sam melted into Dean as Dean serenaded him, his rich voice singing only to Sam as the snaps of his hips and the pumping of his hand grew faster and faster. _“I know I would rather be together alone in a big top circle and a world we can call our own,”_ Dean sang, expressing that now Dean knew that he would rather be with Sam, would choose being with Sam over anything, wanted them to be together in Heaven, a world they could call their own. _“It’s all our own,”_ Dean went on, now fucking Sam rapidly and jerking him at matched speed though there remained great sweetness between them. Sam wanted to call out Dean’s name, but he didn’t want to miss a moment of Dean’s singing.

_“In a world we can call our own we’ll find shelter darling,"_ Dean sang to Sam about Heaven, about finally being together in a world where they could be united, could find shelter together. Sam felt his core fill with profound love for his brother. He suddenly wanted very badly to tell Dean that he loved him, but he still couldn’t bring himself to interrupt the song. _“Where I’ll always promise to never let be,"_ Dean finished the verse as Sam felt his orgasm near and made a sound he couldn’t hold back. Dean fucked and jerked him faster, tightening his grip on Sam’s hair as he sang perfectly into his ear.

_“I don't wanna be the one to say it's wrong,"_ Dean sang, beginning the repeat of the chorus, _“when the heavens open and a new day comes along."_ Another noise, desperate and wild, escaped Sam’s lips. _“I know I would rather be together alone in a big top circle and a world we can call our own,"_ Dean sang, and Sam knew the song was about to end; he held himself on the very edge of his climax. _“It's all our own,"_ Dean finished singing, and Sam shook and came with a silent cry, a cry too profound to be heard, too loud to express in sound. An instant later Dean swore and gave a final, brutal thrust of his hips, releasing deep inside Sam’s ass.

As they panted together in the moments that followed, Dean gently removed his cock from Sam’s hole and turned him around. He kissed Sam’s lips gently, without his tongue, and Sam felt himself fall somehow deeper in love with him.

Dean pulled his head back and gazed up into Sam’s eyes.

“Sammy,” he spoke softly, “I love you.”

Sam breathed a heavy sigh of relief, feeling an immense weight lift from his being. He wrapped his arms tightly around Dean’s body and held him fiercely.

“I love you, Dean,” he replied, and Sam felt at last like he was truly in Heaven.


End file.
